Part 11 (1/2)

”Look out now,” said Rob; ”don't swamp us. Just lie there till I get you in.”

”It's cold!” exclaimed John; and, indeed, his teeth were chattering with the cold of the icy mountain water.

”All right, we'll be in in a minute,” said Rob; and he began poling the raft toward sh.o.r.e as rapidly as he could. They were not out fifty yards, but it seemed an age before the raft reached sh.o.r.e--or, rather, reached the outstretched hands of Uncle d.i.c.k, who stood shoulder-deep in the water waiting for them.

”I was afraid of that raft,” said he, ”but it's lucky it was no worse.

Come here, John.”

”It wasn't the fault of the raft, sir,” chattered John. ”I just got foolish and slipped off. I'm all right. Where's my fish?”

Surely enough, they turned to the other end of the raft; where they saw John's rod fast between two logs, where the reel held it firmly.

All the line was run out, but when Jesse reached out and brought in the rod he felt a surge at the other end which told that the fish was still on.

”Let me have him,” said John. ”I'm just going to get even with him if I can, and take him out of the wet, too.”

Much relieved at seeing him so plucky and at finding him now safe, the others roared with laughter as he stood, wet and s.h.i.+vering, at the edge of the beach, fighting his big trout for several minutes before he could get him in. But at last victory rested with the skilful young angler, and Uncle d.i.c.k with a piece of coffee-sacking scooped out the big rainbow as he came insh.o.r.e.

”Well, there,” said he, ”is fish enough for supper. Now, John, go and strip and wring your clothes and dry out by the fire. I think maybe that'll be fish enough for a while. We're lucky to get the fish, and lucky to get you, too, for it's no joke to go overboard in water as cold as that.”

”You can just bet it isn't!” said John, his face now almost blue with cold, although he was beginning to revive in the warm rays of the sun.

”Just for that, I am going to eat that fish--or as much of him as I can.”

XIII

AFTER THE WHITE GOATS

Moise, although good-natured, none the less was fond enough of good living, and, moreover, disposed to rest very well content when the camping conditions were as good as those in which they now found themselves. He thought that it might be just as well not to be in too big a hurry.

”Suppose we did get caught on those high water, M'sieu Deek,” he said; ”if we only wait some time, she'll run down bime-by. But suppose we'll don't got nothing to eat but bacon and flour, and go starve to death.

What then?”

”Well, Moise,” said Rob, as they sat at the breakfast-table, where the good voyageur made this remark, ”we've got a whole lake full of trout there waiting for us to go out and catch them--if we didn't fall off the raft again.”

”Never mind about that raft any more, young man,” said Uncle d.i.c.k. ”A raft is all right if you have nothing else, and if you have to use it, but it is not compulsory here. We'll just leave the raft business and try for some trout down here in the creek.”

”There'll ain't no trout on those creek,” objected Moise. ”I'll try him myself, and not get no bite. Besides, M'sieu Deek, feesh is all right for woman and dog, but meat she is more better for strong man.”

”That's the way I feel about it,” said John, his mouth half full of bacon. ”I wouldn't mind a little fresh meat once in a while. But where are we going to get it?”

”No moose up in here,” volunteered Jesse, ”and I don't suppose any caribou either. As for sheep, I suppose there are none this side of the high peaks east of here, are there, Uncle d.i.c.k?”

”Probably not. But we'll find caribou farther west. Besides, there are any number of white goats in these mountains all around us here. I suppose you know what they are, although I'm not sure you ever saw them in Alaska.”

”I know them,” said Rob. ”They're the greatest climbers in the world--'On top' is their motto always.”

”That's why the head of a white goat is always considered a good trophy among sportsmen; it means that the hunter has had to climb high for it. They're a sporting proposition, all right, those goats; but when it comes to eating, that's something different. I boiled goat meat two days straight once, and it was still like shoe leather.”